


playing cyrano

by asterions



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Introspection, Love Letters, M/M, No Spoilers, Pining, Robot/Human Relationships, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-02-23 06:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13183845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterions/pseuds/asterions
Summary: A heart of flesh or a heart of electricity—In the end, do these feelings really matter?Kiibo discovers the contradiction of love.





	playing cyrano

**Author's Note:**

  * For [psythewriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psythewriter/gifts).



> i know kiimota is basically nonexistent these days but here's my very much unneeded contribution
> 
> for @psythewriter!!! i hope this is angsty and melodramatic hpa au is good enough lol. and sorry for being..... eternally late as always, but please enjoy!

Sparks fly in your circuits.

 

Only metaphorically, of course, since if that were to really happen you would need to be seriously checked out by the Professor, or just remove the magnets Ouma-kun sometimes places on you for fun.

 

But regardless, your heart and soul feel electric in an almost overstimulated way—it thrums and throbs like a living, breathing heart you could only really observe in person when Ouma-kun pulls you from behind, or when the Professor holds you close and lays his chin on your head. Both are relatively common occurrences, but—

 

—you are not a fool. There is only one heartbeat that matters, and after a ruffle of the hair and a mouthed “good job,” it disappears into the wind.

 

Perhaps you think it never existed, but you know better—it is only an illusion. Human children lack object permanence; you, who has the full developmental abilities of a high-school aged student should know better.

 

In romance novels, touches are fiery and passionate, branding signatures of heat that linger long after fingers vanish.

 

But that is human love.

 

The metal casing of your skin has always been icy to the touch, and there is nothing left for you to hold onto.

 

⋆

 

You and Momota-kun have very little in common.

 

You run in the same circles, of course—you are both students of Hope’s Peak Academy and classmates, after all. He even sits right in front of you in class—which irks you when you’re trying to pay attention, as he’s tall and his hair sticks up in just the right way so as to block the view of the board entirely.

 

More than once, you’ve petitioned the Professor to increase your height—a paltry 160 centimeters gives you more inconveniences than just this in your daily life, and if he were Momota-kun’s height he would likely inconvenience others in the same way. Something like Saihara-kun’s height would be agreeable, you say to him, but Professor Iidabashi only laughs and says that his specific height was meant to be charming and that you would understand when you became a little older.

 

Begrudgingly, you concede your argument for now, but you think about it all through class. Momota-kun’s back encompasses your entire view and blankets your vision, which almost gives you a convenient excuse to not pay attention to the subject material.

 

Not for the first time, you wish you were a little more like Momota Kaito, warm and broad and charismatic as the galaxy itself.

 

Maybe it makes thinking about him even more appealing since he’s so clearly different from you?

 

You decide you need to study this further.

 

⋆

 

“Momota-kun,” you ask in worry, throwing open the sliding door to your classroom, “are you here?”

 

Something shifts, and you crane your neck to see Momota-kun’s head rise behind folded arms. His eyes are shining and tinted red, but there are no tears.

 

“Wha—oh, Kiibo,” he calls out to you familiarly. “What is it? Do you need me for somethin’?”

 

“I was merely worried about you, Momota-kun. I didn't see you leave class, so… Saihara-kun and I decided we would look for you. Did something hold you up?”

 

“Oh, Kiibo, it’s nothing. I just got tired and wanted to take a nap, that’s all.”

 

All your time spent with Ouma-kun leads you to suspect that may, in fact, be a lie. Should you say something?

 

Before you know it, he’s walked past you to the sliding door, bag slung across his slouching back, and your words are out of your mouth.

 

“Wait, Momota-kun.”

 

He stills with a shiver, and you continue on. “If there’s anything I can help with—”

 

“There’s nothing, Kiibo. Don’t worry about it—”

 

“No,” you say. “That’s wrong. There is something… and I’m going to help you with it.”

 

Momota-kun turns to look at you with an expression you can't quite read.

 

“…please?” you say.

 

And then it melts away as he grins.

 

“Well, if you insist, my new sidekick should be someone with guts. I guess you fit the bill, Kiibo. Friends help one another, don't they?”

 

Friends, he says…

 

You feel the corners of your mouth pull widely. “Of course, Momota-kun. Whatever you need, I’ll be there for you.”

 

⋆

 

“You like Saihara-kun?”

 

“Shh, not so loud, Kiibo! But yeah… it's always been Saihara.”

 

You blink. “What do you like about him?”

 

“Is this Twenty Questions? I dunno man, words are fuckin’ hard. He’s so smart, and he always bails me out of trouble… and you wouldn't expect it of him, but he's got a real great sense of humor, actually,” Momota-kun scratches his chin sheepishly, and turns to face you again with a blush high on his face. “I dunno, I don't normally call guys this, but he’s just really… cute, you know.”

 

“Cute,” you muse, “I see.”

 

“L-look man, I know it’s kinda weird for a robot like you to understand, but Saihara’s cool with you, isn’t he?”

 

Your eyes narrow. Did he mean “cool” in the objective sense of the word? No, it was most likely a colloquialism… cool as in “comfortable in his presence”? Knows him well enough?

 

You do know Saihara-kun. Logical, yet gentle Saihara-kun, who helps you and gently nudges you towards understanding the truth. Who is endlessly wise in many forms of human behavior and who advises you with a simple chuckle and a mentor’s guiding hand on a snowy, invisible night.

 

For some odd reason you can’t place, you dislike him. But you also like him, at the same time.

 

What a strange feeling, this push and pull of the waves of an ocean that you’ve never seen.

 

Yet, you make your decision. Nobody’s heart would be broken if you decided to assist him in getting closer to Saihara-kun.

 

“How may I help?”

 

“I… dunno, actually.”

 

You blink. “You mean, you haven’t thought this through?” To be fair, this wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for Momota-kun, but he clearly put a lot of thought into this. Maybe he did have something, but was a bit too shy to tell?

 

If that was the case, he should say it already. “Are you sure about that?”

 

“H-huh?”

 

“You’ve certainly thought about Saihara-kun enough to know what he likes best. In fact, I distinctly remember you asking him the other day about what types of girls he liked… I’m not sure why you did that, seeing as you are very distinctly male and presumably, identify as such…?”

 

Momota-kun scratches at his goatee. “Alright, alright, ya got me. Truth is… I’m not sure what sort of method is best. Saihara likes cute things, and little mysteries. ‘When a girl is like sunshine, but secretly a little shy, that’s when it’s best,’ is what he said, though he also admits that he’s enough of a useless bisexual to like most girls and guys if they’re cute. But here’s the thing… I’m not cute.”

 

You place a finger to his chin. “Hm, I personally disagree. While your facial and body structure do not display aspects of neoteny, that is for certain, you have certain traits that are traditionally considered childish, and therefore, ‘cute,’ including but not limited to your boundless enthusiasm and your natural ability to make others smile. I have no doubt Saihara-kun finds it helpful.” In fact, you could distinctly remember when their class all gathered to share a hot pot, and Saihara-kun’s gentle laugh as Momota-kun burned his tongue because he wouldn’t wait for it to cool down. “In fact, you at least have the ‘sunshine’ temperament down, according to my observations.”

 

Momota-kun nervously scratches the back of his neck and flushes. “Uh, wow. That’s really kind of you, shit. I shouldn’t be so worked up about this, of course I’m like sunshine! The sun is a star, after all!”

 

The corners of your mouth lift despite yourself. “Certainly, Momota-kun. Now, you wish to construct a proper mystery for Saihara-kun to unravel, correct?”

 

“Yeah… any ideas? I’m not good at this mystery stuff, and asking Kirigiri from the other class would be weird, yanno? She tells Saihara everything.”

 

“Hm, that’s certainly true…” Indeed, you’ve heard the rumors. You rack your head for a possible mystery that’s still ‘cute.’

 

“Ah!” You snap your fingers, and point. “What about love letters!” You remember Chabashira-san lent you some shoujo manga the other day, calling it the ‘pinnacle of human literature.’

 

“I dunno, dude… you’ve seen my handwriting.”

 

You grimace. “Yes, it is atrocious.” Beside you, Momota-kun makes a choked noise. “But easily solved. I can copy your style of writing, and make it more… legible.”

 

“Harsh,” he grumbles. “Did you have to word it like that?”

 

“Word it like what?” You’re honestly confused, are you being rude again? “I’m merely sharing the approach I think is best?”

 

“You… never mind, you’re right. Let’s draft it now.”

 

You spent the next hour discussing exactly what you’d put in the letter, but it turned more into you offering suggestions and Momota-kun reacting to them. In the end, the pen is in your hands and ink stains your palms as you attempt and succeed to recreate his method of writing, but the voice is more similar to yours than his.

 

“Is this… really okay? Does it even sound like you?”

 

Momota-kun waves his hand in what is meant to be a dismissive manner. “It’s fine, isn’t it? Adds to the mystery, doesn’t it?”

 

You certainly think it must, and you write the final lines on the back: “If you want to find out who I am, there will be an Astro Cake on the school roof tomorrow. Good luck finding the clues, detective.”

 

You seal the envelope of your fate with Momota-kun’s spit.

 

⋆

 

The next morning, you hand Momota-kun a sticky note with one of four radicals making up his first name, and he hastily tapes it to the roll cake before leaving it in a discreet place, a hollow enclave that once housed a brick on the wall. It fits neatly, and you scramble to class together, hoping not to be seen.

 

“Thanks, Kiibo. I don’t know if I could do this without you,” Momota-kun shyly admits, and you smile.

 

“I didn’t think this was even possible, I admit…”

 

“Nonsense! There are things only you can do and you can be, Kiibo. Don’t let your dreams be dreams! Hey, if you like someone too, don’t hesitate to give me a shout! I’ll help you for sure, okay? Bros look out for each other!”

 

He comfortably slings an arm against your shoulder, and you feel yourself heat up for no reason.

 

It feels… nice to be relied on.

 

Yet, when you see that the cake has been taken from its spot not two minutes later, you can’t bring yourself to smile.

 

Momota-kun is as radiant as the sun, and he never stands down. But there’s something you need to say…

 

“Momota-kun,” you ask. “What will you do if he rejects you?”

 

“Idiot, there’s no way he’d reject me! You put all this work into it, after all?”

 

“Work… does not necessarily guarantee success. It merely increases the chance of it—”

 

Momota-kun turns to you with clenched fists. “Are you giving up already, man?’

 

You tilt your head quizzically. “Of course not, Momota-kun. I am merely accounting for percent error. Feelings… are unpredictable things, aren’t they?”

 

“Yeah, but feelings can change the world!” Momota-kun clasps his hand in yours. “And that’s the most human thing about us, because we can defy possibility! So don’t stop hoping, Kiibo! We’ll definitely succeed!”

 

“Yes, I suppose you’re right… and I believe in you too, Momota-kun. If I were Saihara-kun, I’d certainly accept you in a heartbeat. We can… surely get you a victory.”

 

“Now that’s what I’d like to hear!”

 

Three radicals left.

 

⋆

 

The next day, Momota-kun excitedly waves you over to his shoe locker, and he looks both ways before pulling you close. Your broad shoulders link together, creating a shadow over what’s in his hands. “A letter?” you say.

 

“They left a letter!” Momota-kun says in excitement. “Let’s read it together!”

 

The letter is short and to the point, and acknowledges the target’s affections and hopes that the sender is the person they’re in love with, and that if so they’re looking forward to what they put together for them.

 

Momota-kun is practically bouncing on his heels. “I have to send one back! I know we were just gonna put in another radical today, but can we write a letter, too? Shit, I left the materials at my dorm… if we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna have to skip class—!”

 

And you, who has never once thought or condoned the idea of skipping class, stands to attention. “That’s fine. My lunch starts earlier than yours, correct? I can spend the extra time writing it if you bring me the materials.”

 

“Kiibo, don’t you hate—oh, Angie’s God, thank you so fuckin’ much. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

 

“You don’t have to,” you say with a smile. “I’m sure Saihara-kun likes you back. Trust in me, Momota-kun.”

 

⋆

 

“Oh, what’s this? Kiiboy’s writing something? I wonder what it is—?”

 

They snatch the letter from your hands despite your protests. “O-Ouma-kun, it’s rude to go through other people’s things without asking!”

 

Ouma-kun doesn’t even look at you. “Eh~? Did someone say something? Oh, it’s just metal clanging again, so it’s nothing to worry about.”

 

You growl, but their eyes are already lazily scanning the paper—which you’ve put a lot of work into! Copying Momota-kun’s lazy scrawl is nothing short of a tremendous feat, in your opinion—and when they look up, it is directly into your face. It is mid-day, and yet, it seems as if they glow with mystical power on a dark, moonless night.

 

“Oh, is that so. Kiiboy, you really are boring.”

 

You’re already tired of their attitude. “What are you saying now?”

 

“Kiibo,” they merely say in response, looking almost speechless for a minute. Then, they sigh. “I have a feeling a dumb person like you wouldn’t get it, but I’m going to ask you anyway. What do you gain from doing this for Momota-chan?”

 

“I think it’s _you_ who doesn’t get it, Ouma-kun. People do things for their friends simply because they want to. There doesn’t need to be something I _gain_ from it.”

 

“But there is something you want, don’t you? From Momota-chan. I get that he’s a big, great liar—all you have to do is look at _this_ to know that, really—but you aren’t. In fact, don’t you usually get on my case for lying all the time?”

 

“I’m not lying!”

 

“But you are, Kiiboy. You’re lying to yourself. You _do_ want something from Momota-chan. And I know very well what that is.”

 

You don't like being kept in the dark like this. “What is it then, Ouma-kun? Tell me.”

 

Ouma-kun just smiles sadly at you. “Think, Kiiboy. How else would I understand how you feel? You want Momota-chan’s love, don’t you? And I...”

 

It is the truth, but your breath still hitches—

 

“...wanted Saihara-chan’s. But maybe that’s a lie? I want my beloved Saihara-chan to be happy, after all!”

 

You feel intense sympathy. “Ouma-kun—“

 

“The question is, Kiiboy, can you really afford feeling the same way?”

 

⋆

 

You catch Saihara-kun retrieving the cake with the soft smile he always has, pretty long lashes beautifying his amber gaze.

 

“I have to admit, I didn’t expect you to be here alone, Kiibo-kun. Are you waiting for someone?”

 

“No,” you hum. “Not particularly. And you, Saihara-kun? Wherever you are, Ouma-kun is usually trailing behind.”

 

“Ah, he has something to do today.” Whatever lie he was expecting, it was not one as poor as that. Maybe you were able to understand lies better than you had thought. “I’m just eating lunch on my own.”

 

“And that lunch is… cake? I would expect something like that from Momota-kun, not you.”

 

Saihara-kun nervously looks down. “Well, I have proper food, too, it’s just…”

 

You feel tired. “It is of no consequence to me what you eat, Saihara-kun. Just take care of yourself and make sure to eat properly for your own health.”

 

He nods. “I’ll do that, Kiibo-kun.”

 

As he takes the first bite of cake that probably tastes sweet—

 

—you feel a bitter taste in your mouth that won’t go away.

 

Two radicals left.

 

⋆

 

You consider confessing to Momota-kun before it’s too late, but you’re scared.

 

Saihara-kun’s smile grows brighter by the day, and Ouma-kun’s seem dimmer when you meet them every night.

 

“So, Kiiboy? What are you going to do?”

 

“I… am not sure.” You’ve already admitted that what you are feeling is probably love. The quickening heart rate, the affection, the…

 

“Jealousy? Well, that’s just what I’d expect out of a robot like you.”

 

You threaten to sue them for their robophobia. They hold up their arms in amnesty. “Guess I went too far with that comment. But, I can’t say I don’t understand. After all, I don’t like Momota-chan that much either. Saihara-chan is my beloved, you know? And yet I’m too much of a coward to ask him out! So it’s only natural I’d resent him in place of that cowardice instead of doing anything myself, right? Right, Kiiboy?”

 

“I don’t think it’s cowardice—“

 

“Kiiboy, that wasn’t a lie, so you don’t get to cut in.”

 

“…right, sorry, Ouma-kun.”

 

Ouma-kun folds their hands behind their back and looks at you with vague concern. “You’re a bit too meek, Kiiboy. That’s a bit unusual, for you.”

 

“I’m merely thinking… and you’re correct, as always. I find myself resenting Saihara-kun unfairly as well.”

 

Ouma scratches at his nose. “Is that so. But…”

 

A pause. You fiddle with your hands.

 

“But you know, I’d rather that at least one of us would be happy. I don’t know if your feelings are real, that’s something you have to determine on your own. But if you don’t act quickly, you know he’ll be taken away from you, right? If you don’t harvest the fruit at the right time…”

 

Ouma-kun looks at you, but his gaze is far, far away as he holds your hand.

 

“It will become rotten.”

 

One radical left.

 

⋆

 

“This is it, the last day,” Momota-kun sighs, leaning his forearms across the railing. I really couldn’t have done it without you, Kiibo. Thanks man, you’re a real pal.”

 

“It is no problem, I’m always happy to assist you.”

 

“Nah, Kiibo, you always say that and you do so much not just for me, but for everyone else as well, ya know? So… If you ever want me to return the favor,” Momota-kun says, leaning in so close their noses are about to touch, “You can tell me anything, you know. Just the two of us. But personally, the manly way of life means you shouldn’t keep secrets! Shout it out to the world!”

 

“I’m not sure I can do that,” you admit with a pained chuckle. “But if I need anything… then—”

 

You pause.

 

Do you really want to ruin everything here?

 

Don’t be selfish, you think.

 

“Never mind, I’ll tell you later. Saihara-kun got your last letter today, so he should be here soon, right? It’s almost 5:30 pm. The clubs should already be packing up for the day.”

 

“Yeah, you’re right. Even if you’re not going to scream, I will. 3… 2… 1...”

 

The door slams open. “Sorry I’m late—”

 

“I LOVE YOU, SAIHARA SHUUICHI!” Momota Kaito yells over the railing and into the sky. “PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME!”

 

“E-eh?”

 

Momota-kun turns, trying to look suave but merely looking embarrassed. “Yo, I was waiting for you. What took you so long?”

 

“Ah, Momota-kun, it was just cleanup… wait, before that. Did you… confess your love? For me?”

 

“Yeah, of course I did. Because, uh,” he fumbles. “You’re the only one for me, you know?”

 

“And all this time, I thought you’d been asking for romance advice to ask Harukawa-san out… thank goodness.”

 

“Thank goodness… wait, does that mean…?”

 

“Yeah,” Saihara-kun confirms, stepping closer. “I like you… a lot, Momota-kun. You’ve always been there for me.”

 

“Do you,” he says, face excited, “Do you really mean that?”

 

“I do,” he says, and your heart sinks faster than you ever could in water.

 

Momota-kun waves his hands around. “This… this is the happiest fucking day of my life.” He charges at Saihara-kun and grabs his waist, spinning him around and pulling him into a deep kiss that Saihara-kun reciprocates holding the back of Momota-kun’s head with before backing away.

 

Saihara-kun smiles. “This… is the happiest day of my life, too. Thank you, Momota-kun.”

 

The sticky notes of names and radicals lie on the floor, forgotten by the twilight air as it is consumed by laughter.

 

⋆

 

A heart of flesh or a heart of electricity—

 

In the end, do these feelings really _matter?_

 

Oblivious to everything but each other, you saunter off past them unnoticed. Ouma-kun is leaning against a pillar as you are about to descend.

 

“So, you couldn’t do it,” they say.

 

“I couldn’t,” you confirm.

 

“I wish I could do something about it. Make them face the lies of their love. But… it’s too late for me anyway. Anyway, if Saihara-chan is happy, then this development isn’t too boring.”

 

You hesitate before choosing your next words. “Ouma-kun… are you sad?”

 

“Sad? Oh, you’re going to make me laugh! I can’t be sad if it’s just how it is… you know, in every game, there are winners and there are losers. They never say what happens to those who lose, but I suppose it’s unimaginable. And look where we are. You’ve lost, Kiibo. And so have I.”

 

⋆

 

“Father,” you ask later that day, “can I turn off my external feelings processor? I have a feeling there is a bug… it feels like something is wrong with me.”

 

He looks at you deeply in his eyes, likely seeing right through you, but any indication of such is only met with pensive silence.

 

“Of course, my son,” he finally says, ruffling your hair. “Anything for you. And, I know that your monthly maintenance is due in about a week, so why not speed it up? I know you've wanted those new vocal chords for a while.”

 

You feel as if there are… stars in your eyes. They quickly dim at the thought. “Thank you, father.”

 

“Whatever you feel is wrong with you, son, you know you can always tell me, right? I can help you.”

 

“With all due respect… it’s just an internal bug, I think. It’ll go away in a while, so please do not concern yourself. I will be fine.”

 

Your father’s knowing expression is eerily similar to Ouma-kun’s, even with a different face and a different downturn of the lips. “If you say so, Kiibo.”

 

⋆

 

You boot up after a while. Three days have elapsed, and the beginning of the new week is here. Your father wipes away the sweat on his forehead and lays down the screwdriver.

 

You get up and stretch, but somehow you feel stiff and numb despite being properly cleaned (the only one able to do a better job is Iruma-san, in your opinion) and you feel… overall, _strange._

 

“Were you able to remove the bug?”

 

“Ah, about that, there was no real bug. You’re perfectly fine, but your average internal temperature was a lot higher than normal, and it seemed to relate to your emotional state, so I just tweaked a few things so that you’d cool down for a bit. Does it feel strange, son?”

 

“Hm, I think this is fine, father. Furthermore, you should really let some light in here—”

 

You pull open the curtains to let the morning light in, and you are greeted with the sight of Momota-kun and Saihara-kun asleep on a bench, lying into each other so closely their love might spill through their entwined hands.

 

“Are you alright, Kiibo?”

 

You turn your head and give him a radiant smile.

 

“I’ve never been better, father.”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, comments and kudos are v much appreciated! thank you for reading!


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